



'*,=^V. 



^e 






»W 



4 



F '^ i1 
I03Z t^ 









^* ^A ^'^"^ * "i'^X? * 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



%p3j0 ^.^itipiing^t |0,.. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THROUGH EVANGELINE'S 
COUNTRY 



THROUGH EVANGELINE'S 
COUNTRY 

By JEANNETTE A. GRANT 
ILLUSTRATED 



" Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his 
childhood ; 
Green Acadian meadows, -with sylvan rivers among them 
Village and mountain and woodlands; and walking 

under their shadozv, 
As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision." 



BOSTON (*-1\10V29 i893 

JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY \ ^^ ^*:) 

1894 X^Of WA5W^ 



Copyright, 1893 

BY 

Joseph Knight Company 



^ 



/ 



\ 



A^ 



CONTENTS. 



Part I. A Bit of History. 

A Bit of Acadian History .... 3 

Part II. The Acadia of To-day. 

Chapter I. The Border Land, Yarmouth . 19 
Chapter II. By Saint Mary's Bay . . 25 

(Meteghan, Church Point.) 

Part III. Old Acadian Haunts. 

Chapter I. Annapolis Royal . . -57 

(Old Port Royal of the French.) 

Chapter II. In the Annapolis Valley . . 66 

Part IV. The Poefs Acadia. 

Chapter I. The Cornwallis Valley . . 79 

Chapter II. Grand Pr6 . . . .89 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 











PAGE 


Evangeline, from a painting by Edwin 


Douglass .... Frontispiece. 




Map of Evangeline's Country 






V 


Old Magazine at Annapolis . 








3 


Jacques Cartier .... 








8 


Entrance to Annapolis Basin 








9 


Samuel Champlain 








ID 


Halifax — View from Citadel 








II 


Near Annapolis Basin . 








i6 


Yarmouth .... 








19 


Yarmouth Harbor 








21 


Near Yarmouth . 








24 


Digby 








25 


Byway near Digby 








26 


A Nova Scotia Cottage 








33 


Lighthouse, Saint Mary's Bay 








49 


Railway Bridge at "Bear River 








51 


On the Way to Annapolis . 








• 57 


Evening Shadows in the Acadian Land 




• 59 


Fragment of Old French Fort at 


Anna 


polls 




. 62 



X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Scenery near Annapolis . . . . -63 

Apple Blossoms, Annapolis Valley . . .66 

Apple Orchard, Annapolis Valley . . . -71 

Annapolis River ....... 73 

"Aground in the shallow River lay a Schooner". 76 
Orchard in Bloom . . . . . -79 

Apple picking ....... 80 

Wolfville, not far from Grand Pr6 . . .81 

Minas Basin — Blomidon in the Distance . . 83 
"A Vessel lay on the Stocks" . . . .86 

Cutting through an Orchard . . . .88 

The Gaspereau Valley . . . . . .89 

Grand Pr6 Village, Home of Evangeline . . 91 

Old Blacksmith Forge, Grand Pr6 . . -93 

Old Willows — Grand Pr6 95 

"Away to the northward Blomidon rose" . . 97 

Old Acadian Graveyard, Gaspereau . . -99 



PART I. 



A BIT OF HISTORY. 

'■'List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of 
the for est P 




OLD MAGAZINE AT 
ANNAPOLIS. 



A BIT OF ACADIAN HISTORY. 



While lovers love and hearts are true, 
the story of Evangeline will never lose its 
interest. As long as the pages of history 
find readers, the record of the expulsion 
of the French inhabitants of Acadie will 
never cease to stir the sympathies and 
awake the indignation of him who reads. 
Whatever be the point of view, that strug- 
gling fragment of a nation, fighting for 
existence against fearful odds, treasuring 
in its heart &n ideal king and mother 
country, stands out pathetically clear from 
its sombre background. 

No one can study the history of the 



4 THROUGH EVANGELINE S C(JUNTRY. 

French colonists in North America with- 
out pity for their lot and admiration for 
their steadfastness. Like wayward chil- 
dren deprived of parental oversight, they 
forgot the Golden Rule, and retaliated 
even to the uttermost when assailed ; but 
by so doing they thought to vindicate not 
only their personal rights, but the honor 
of France and the majesty of their king. 
Alas for their mistaken zeal ! That king 
had little thought for these far-away colo- 
nists, and but small appreciation of their 
loyalty, unless it showed itself in the form 
of revenue for the royal coffers. More- 
over, the affairs of F"rance were in sad 
disorder, and her monarchs lived in fear 
of assassination at home, and in deadly 
feud with their neighbors. Treaty after 
treaty was signed, and the colony of 
Acadie was given now to France and now 
to England, with as little concern as a 
man is given or taken on a checker-board. 
Great worldly wisdom would be required 
by that colonist who to-day is a subject 
of France, and to-morrow finds that against 
his will he has been transformed into a 
subject of England, to enable him to be 
faithful in both conditions. The Acadians 
were not worldly wise ; they were a simple- 



A BIT OF ACADIAN HISTORY. 5 

hearted people, who believed what their 
priests told them, and were proud of being 
French subjects. Loyalty was a striking 
characteristic among them, and it is but a 
poor kind of loyalty that can change the 
object of its fidelity in a day, or even in 
a year. Compulsory loyalty, if such an 
anomaly can exist, is a weak substitute 
for that which is freely given. It is no 
wonder then that the British governors of 
Acadia were dissatisfied with the sem- 
blance of allegiance which had been wrung 
from the French subjects of their English 
sovereign. 

It was not until the faithful colonists 
had learned the futility of appeal to their 
French king, and had suffered much from 
their misplaced confidence, that they were 
able at last to see the wisdom of striving 
to become loyal subjects of the monarch 
into whose power their destiny had given 
them. To-day the Acadian French of 
Nova Scotia are considered good citizens, 
who desire the advancement of the Prov- 
ince, for whose possession their ancestors 
endured so much. They have a romantic 
attachment for' the land of their birth, 
where so many tender memories of the 
past survive. As a people they are united 



6 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

by the strongest ties, a common ancestry, 
a common religion, and common traditions. 

The historical facts which led up to the 
climax known as the expulsion of 1755 
are briefly as follows : — 

In the year 1497, five years after the 
great discovery by Columbus, John and 
Sebastian Cabot, in the employ of Henry 
the Seventh of England, visited the eastern 
shores of North America in the vicinity of 
Labrador. No settlements were made, but 
the mere discovery gave England a slight 
claim to the region. 

Three years later, in 1500, a Portuguese 
adventurer, Caspar de Cortereal, reached 
Labrador and spent some time in fol- 
lowing the coast northward, for the objec 
of all these early navigators was to find a 
northwest passage to India. 

After four years French fishermen found 
their way to that storehouse of finny treas- 
ures, — the Banks of Newfoundland. In 
1524, the king of France, Francis the 
First, sent out a Florentine named Veraz- 
zano, to make a French claim in the New 
World, for Spain and Portugal were getting 
on much too fast to suit their royal neigh- 
bor. Verazzano reached a portion of the 
Atlantic coast which is supposed to have 



/ BIT OF ACADIAN HISTORY. 7 

been what is now North Carolina. He, 
too, followed the coast northward, explor- 
ing some seven hundred leagues. He 
called the whole region New France. 

When three years more had passed, an 
Englishman, one Thomas Thorne, was in- 
spired to attempt the investigation of the 
North American coast as far as the North 
Pole. Henry the Eighth gave him two 
ships for the trip. Thorne only reached 
the entrance to the Gulf of Saint Law- 
rence, when one of the ships was cast 
away. The other went south again as far 
as Cape Breton and thence returned home. 

In 1534 we see France again looking up 
her claims in this much-visited region, and 
Jacques Cartier lands in New Brunswick, 
where he finds the country very pleasing 
and the natives friendly. The next year, 
with greater facilities for discovery, Cartier 
returned and viewed the sites of the future 
cities, Quebec and Montreal. And once 
again did Cartier find his way to the 
country that was henceforth to be known 
as Canada, — a name borrowed from the 
little Indian village of Kannata. Elaborate 
preparations for fbunding a French colony 
had been made. The office of Viceroy 
was conferred upon Roberval, under whose 



THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 



name the colony is known in history. 
Cartier had charge of the tieet. He 
seems to have acted quite independently, 
preceding Roberval to the New World 

and desert- 
ing him to 
return to 
France when 
it pleased 
himself. This 
colony of 
1 54 1 proved 
a failure, as 
did several 
others at- 
tempted. 

It was not 
until the year 
1604 that an 
actual settle- 
m e n t was 
made In what 
we now call 
Nova Scotia. 

tAKTIER. 

It was then 
that the truly romantic history of Acadie 
began. The settlers came from France, 
and all expected to grow rich by trading 
in furs. Their leader was De Monts, who 




A BIT OF ACADIAN HISTORY. 9 

held his commission from Henry the 
Fourth of France — " King Henry of 
Navarre." They sailed about the southern 
and western coasts of Acadie, and when 
they entered the beautiful body of water 
now known as Annapolis Basin, Cham- 
plain, who had command of the vessels, 
named both the harbor and the river flow- 




ENTRANCE TO ANNAPOLIS BASIN. 



ing into it, Port Royal. No other place 
pleased them so well, and there they de- 
cided the following spring to build their 
town, which also bore the name Port Royal. 
And here, indeed^ was the capital of Acadia 
until the founding of Halifax by the Eng- 
lish in 1749. 



lO THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 



Surely no community ever lived amid 
more romantic surroundings than did the 
colonists of Port Royal. They had many 
trials and deprivations in their new home 

in the wil- 
derness, but 
they con- 
trived va- 
rious fes- 
tivities to 
brighten 
their lot. 
Among 
their num- 
ber were 
gentlemen 
who had 
been accus- 
tomed to 
court life, 
and each 
did his 
share to 
entertain his 
companions. 
Fifteen of the leading men organized a 
social club styled The Order of the Good 
Time (L Ordre de ban Temps). Feasting 
on the best that could be procured — and 




CHAM PLAIN. 



A BIT OF ACADIAN HISTORY. 1 3 

fish and game were plenty — was followed 
by story telling, in which the Indians, who 
mingled picturesquely with the company, 
took a part. The old chief, Membertou, 
rich in the experiences of his hundred 
years, was an honored guest at the ban- 
quets. 

Meanwhile the English had made a set- 
tlement in Virginia. When they learned 
that there were French settlers on the 
same coast, although eight hundred miles 
distant, they decided to drive them away. 
So three armed vessels under a piratical 
commander, named Argal, were sent to 
destroy all the forts and dwellings of the 
French. Strange as it may seem, even 
this outrage failed to enlist any aid from 
France ; the unhappy colony of Port Royal 
was left to its fate : and the sole basis of 
English claim to this region was the 
Cabot discoveries of 1497 and 1498! 

This claim the English continued to en- 
force, and James the First gave a grant of 
what is now Nova Scotia and New Bruns- 
wick to a Scotch favorite. Sir William 
Alexander, who made luckless attempts at 
planting a colony. 

Then in 1627 a war broke out between 
the two home countries. Cardinal Riche- 



14 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

lieu had formed a new company which was 
to have a monopoly of the fur trade in 
" New France." An English squadron 
captured Port Royal and several French 
vessels on their way to Acadie with ammu- 
nition and stores. And so the conflict 
went on, the unfortunate Acadians always 
getting the worst of it. The New England 
Colony, feeling that there was no room on 
their borders for the French, strove in their 
usual vigorous fashion to persecute rather 
than to be persecuted. A doom always hung 
over the French attempt to possess terri- 
tory in North America. Through the long 
years between the first settlement in 1604 
to the Treaty of Paris in 1763, Acadia was 
a stage whereon French actors played a 
many-acted tragedy. For this reason Aca- 
dia and the Acadians always touch a ten- 
der chord in generous hearts. Who can 
refuse sympathy to the heroes of a lost 
cause ? 

The quarrels between France and Eng- 
land went on into the beginning of the 
eighteenth century. The warlike spirit of 
the mother countries was abroad in the 
colonies. Expeditions from New England 
brought havoc upon the Acadians in return 
for what was considered sufficient provo- 



A BIT OF ACADIAN HISTORY. 1 5 

cation. At last in 1710, Port Royal was 
captured by New England troops, and 
three years later peace was concluded in 
the Old World by the Treaty of Utrecht. 
Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Hudson 
Bay Territory were then ceded to Great 
Britain. The name of Port Royal was 
changed, in honor of the English queen, to 
Annapolis Royal. The French inhabitants 
of the whole region were then considered 
as having no right to remain unless they 
would take an oath of allegiance to the 
British Crown. Naturally they did not feel 
inclined to take such an oath, and of course 
their English victors could not feel safe 
with this spirit in their midst. They felt 
that "to the victors belong the spoils," 
that Acadia was theirs by right of conquest 
and treaty; while the early inhabitants, still 
hoping that their French monarch would 
come to their rescue, could not make up 
their minds to desert his cause. 

Thus things went from bad to worse, 
and no definite agreement could be made. 
There is no doubt that on many occasions 
the French were aggressive, but the Eng- 
lish were equally so. It is certain that 
they feared their intractable neighbors, 
and could see no way to settle matters 



I6 



TIIKUUcai EVAiNXiELINE S COUNTRY. 



save by resorting 



to extreme measures. 
To their aid came that stanch New Eng- 
land spirit which hanged women as witches, 
and ground Quakers to death for not tak- 
ing an oath. It was a Massachusetts com- 
mander who most rigorously executed the 
cruel orders concerning the Acadians ; 
and, as if to atone for his countryman's 
harshness toward the poor French exiles, 
it was a gentle-hearted New England poet 
who, nearly a century afterward, wrote the 
poem of " Evangeline," — 

" A tale of love in Acadie, home of the happy." 




NEAR ANNAPOLIS BASIN. 



PART II. 



THE ACADIA OF TO-DAY. 

" In the fisherman'' s cot the ivheel and the loom are still busy; 
Maidens still wear thiir Norma7i caps and their kirtles of 

hoinesptin. 
And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story." 




CHAPTER I. 



THE BORDER LAND, YARMOUTH. 

To read the poem of " Evangeline" upon 
the very shores where its thriUing scenes 
were enacted, is to greatly marvel at that 
poetic insight which enabled Longfellow 
to so perfectly portray a landscape which 
he never saw. It is the first part of the 
poem only that deals with the region 
known as " The Land of Evangeline." 
The second part follows the Acadians into 
their places of exile, and especially con- 
cerns the fate 'of the lovers, Evangeline 
and Gabriel. The story of the expulsion 
and scattering is well known, but there is 



20 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

a continuation of the story which is not 
less fascinating. It shows even better 
than the charming hexameters of the poet 
how strong w^as the Acadian 's love for his 
native land, and how bitter must have been 
his enforced separation from it. 

" Only along the shores of the mournful and misty Atlantic 
Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile 
Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom." 

History and existing circumstances tell 
us that of the three thousand exiles who 
were carried out of Acadia in 1755, about 
two thirds returned, in spite of opposition 
and hardships, to find new homes in such 
places as were not occupied by the Eng- 
lish. Some found their perilous way back 
in the course of a few months, and others 
were weary years in reaching the home of 
their youth. The beautiful valley which 
had been for them the scene of so much 
horror was never to be again an Acadian 
settlement. Strangers soon took posses- 
sion of it and shut out the old dwellers, 
even had they had the heart to return. It 
is in another part of the Acadia of to-day 
that we must seek the descendants of the 
exiles of 1755. 

A pilgrim to Nouvelle-Ecosse, the French 
name for Nova Scotia, has to-day the 



THE BORDER LAND, YARMOUTH. 2 1 

choice of many routes. If he desire, as 
did the pilgrim who now writes of her 
visit to Acadian shrines, to reach the 
abode of Acadian manners and customs, 
he can find no pleasanter way than by 
going direct from Boston to Yarmouth. 
A period of seventeen hours suffices to 
bring your steamer into the most opaque 




YARMOUTH HARBOR. 



of Fundy fogs and plant her firmly in the 
unsavory mud, until the tide serves to float 
her to the wharf. To the voyager from 
the West Country the grim dampness and 
enforced delay are trying. He longs to 
go ashore, to run the gantlet of the 
customs offic-ers, and — have breakfast. 
He tells the steward of his desires, and 
receives the bland reply, — 



2 2 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

" Breakfast is ready in the saloon !" 

Yet who that has come up on deck, eager 
to land on an unknown shore, would wish 
to return to the stifling atmosphere " be- 
low " for breakfast ? 

"Thank you, but I will wait," is the 
somewhat stiff reply directed at the w^hite- 
jacketed steward, who is already far sped 
on one of his many errands. 

Once ashore and settled in the comfort- 
able though not luxurious hotel, the fog 
ceases to annoy, and you find it quite 
warm enough as you walk about the Yar- 
mouth streets, so delightful in their nov- 
elty. In the shop windows you see English 
goods, and are almost surprised that the 
prices are not marked in English money. 
At the house windows are great clusters 
of pelargoniums in lovely tints, expanding 
in the moist, mild air. And the hawthorn 
hedges ! Sometimes you pass a street 
where house after house has its wall of 
green hedge, and as you look up the 
street, the effect is an English picture. 
Here and there one sees straggling 
growths that suggest the careless owner, 
but for the most part the hedges uf Yar- 
mouth are well kept and a delight to the 
eye. 



THE BORDER LAND, YARMOUTH. 23 

The luminosity of the atmosphere gives 
one the finest effects in landscape and 
marine. Here for a moment the sun, 
pushing aside the gray curtain of fog, 
touches into clear outline an antique 
gable; there the sail of a yacht, caught 
by the fleeting brightness, gleams white 
from afar. See yonder shore as it comes 
into misty prominence and fades again 
from view — a vista from dreamland — a 
Fata Morgana! This is a land for poets 
and dreamers, for seers and idealists, 
this country by the Fundy Bay. Let not 
the realist bring hither his palette of glar- 
ing tints and his brushes of coarse fibre, 
for this is an Enchanted Land, and only 
he who bears with him the magician's 
lamp can see its beauties aright. 

The Clare Settlements, where live the 
descendants of the exiles, lie a little to 
the north of Yarmouth. There, at a place 
called Meteghan, my guide-book indicated 
an interesting settlement and a fine French 
Catholic church. In the post-office at 
Yarmouth was a young assistant, whose 
liquid, dark eyes suggested French ances- 
try. I asked her if she came from Clare, 
but she said no. Then the postmaster 
came forward and advised me to go to 



24 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

Pubnico rather than to Clare, for there, he 
said, lived the famous descendants of the 
old family of D'Entremont, in whose veins 
runs some of the bluest blood of France. 
Later research proved that Pubnico is con- 
sidered the oldest Acadian settlement in 




NEAR YARMOUTH. 



the world, for its people returned to the 
same locality when their exile was ended. 
Pubnico, with such attractions, was hard to 
resist, but it lay in an opposite direction 
from Meteghan ; and there I had decided 
to spend Sunday. 




CHAPTER II. 



by saint marys bay. 
(meteghan, church point.) 

The Clare Settlements are in the south- 
western part of Digby County. They bor- 
der on an arm of the Bay of Fundy called 
Saint Mary's Bay. This beautiful stretch 
of water was named by Champlain. At 
various points along its shore settled those 
Acadians who returned from exile. Here 
their descendants live quietly and speak 



26 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

the language of their ancestors. They re- 
tain many of the old customs, and give 
little thought to the outside world. 

The railway from Yarmouth to Annap- 
olis does not skirt the shore of Saint 




BYWAY NEAR DIGBY. 



Mary's Bay, but runs through a rather 
monotonous landscape. The true way to 
enjoy the beauties of any country is to 
walk or drive through its byways. This 
is especially true of Nova Scotian scenery, 
and every native will advise the tourist to 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 2/ 

drive. But this, in out-of-the-way places, 
is extremely difficult to do, for the few 
horses have their appointed daily tasks, 
and there are none for extra occasions. 
Therefore, the best that can be done is to 
travel by rail, tarrying at various points of 
interest long enough to see them satisfac- 
torily. 

The morning of my trip to Meteghan 
was foggy, and little could be seen from 
the car window. Several young women 
got in at way stations, and left us again, 
having, by their voluble remarks to one 
another, proved that they were Acadian 
French. The handsome and dignified old 
conductor, who looked like a Scotch doc- 
tor of divinity, seemed uncertain about 
hotel accommodations at Meteghan. He 
came to see his passenger off the train 
when it stopped at the modest station 
which seems at first glance a veritable 
" house in the woods." Then the train 
rolled away, and the passenger was left at 
the mercy of the few station officials and 
the other arrivals, all standing about and 
chattering French. Prominent in the group 
was the sole r-epresentative of the sole pub- 
lic house of Meteghan, into whose care the 
conductor had consigned the "woman who 
wanted to visit the French people." 



28 THROUGH EVANGELINE's COUNTRY. 

The landlord was not a Frenchman, but 
he gave orders to his servant in very good 
French, collected his passengers in the 
same tongue, and occasionally reassured 
his guest in softly spoken English. At 
length the luggage was safely stowed into 
a light wagon and started on its way. The 
passengers were to follow in the mail coach, 
— for the good landlord carries her Majesty's 
mails, — and he was himself our driver. 

There was quite a group of home-comers, 
sons and daughters of Meteghan, who had 
come from Boston for their vacation. 
French was the medium of conversation, 
and for some time the stranger listened 
only to the happy gossip of her compan- 
ions, who were all old acquaintances glad 
to be together again. At length she ven- 
tured a carefully constructed remark in 
their language, and was met with cordial 
and voluble appreciation. 

" Elle park fran^ais, elk comprend ! 
Votes parks frangaisf Oui, vous parkz 
bun! " 

And of course they could all speak Eng- 
lish, for they were earning their living 
among English-speaking people. So the 
conversation became general, and English 
or French was spoken as it happened. 



BY SAIXT MARYS BAY. 29 

It was a deliofhtful driYe of six miles to 
the town. As we reached the long street, 
our companions left us, one after another, 
at the pretty cottages at whose gates stood 
expectant friends. There was among the 
home-comers a rather unimpressive 3'oung 
fellow of some twenty 3'ears, who talked a 
good deal and assumed worldly ways. 
Two children stood at a house-door wait- 
inof for this bie brother, their faces bright 
with expectation. As the coach approached 
the house, he swung himself down, without 
waiting for the horses to be pulled up. 
Rushing toward the little ones, he seized 
them in his arms and kissed them with the 
perfect abandon of affection. It was a 
touching Acadian tableau ! 

The prett}' girl on the back seat con- 
tinued to the hotel. She was the land- 
lord's daughter, and before I left we had 
become very good friends. The family 
consisted of several grown-up daughters, 
and a son, a gentle-eyed belle-mere, and 
three small children. Not a word of un- 
kindness nor an angry tone was to be 
heard. When by themselves they always 
spoke French. 

The hotel was one of the oldest houses 
in Meteghan, and the landlord was pre- 



30 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

paring to remodel it and make it more 
suitable for a public house. He had en- 
joyed a monopoly of the commercial 
travellers and rare tourists who came his 
way, and being honest and unwilling to 
run in debt had deferred his repairs too 
long. All that housewifely care could do 
to make the superannuated rooms attrac- 
tive was done. At the front of the house 
was an old porch with a seat built along 
one side — a suggestion of that in the 
house of Benedict Bellefontaine, — 

" Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath " ; 

and 

"There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the 
notary seated." 

It has always been the custom in Aca- 
dian villages to build the houses along 
both sides of one long street. Allusion 
to this fact occurs in the poem, — 

" When brightly the sunset lighted the village st)-eet," 
" Solemnly down the street came the parish priest," 
" Down the long street she passed." 

The street at Meteghan is lined with 
houses for a distance of perhaps a mile. 
Some are old and weather beaten, but 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 3 I 

many are trim cottages with porches and 
bay-windows, and pretty bits of garden in 
front. Sitting at the wide front window 
of the public sitting-room at the hotel, 
one could see across the way the neatest 
of white cottages with piazza, bay-windows, 
and the characteristic roof window of " the 
Provinces," known as the A window. In 
its white-fenced garden stood tall holly- 
hocks of rich wine color. Beyond the 
cottage lay the bay, obscured often during 
my stay by rain or mist. 

The family of my host were anxious to 
aid me in acquiring a knowledge of Aca- 
dian manners and legends. On the first 
afternoon the belle-ntere took me to visit 
the priest, who is much beloved by his 
parish. They say they owe their fine brick 
church to his efforts ; that he freely gave 
of his own means to build it, had the bricks 
made, and induced the people to haul them 
with their ox- teams to the site of the church. 
They are proud of his energy, but fail to 
equal it in their own lives. The church is 
a tall edifice with two spires, standing 
upon elevated ground and facing the bay. 
As it is visible for miles on the sea, it has 
received the' name Stella Maris — Star 
of the Sea. Priest and people love the 



2,2 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

edifice which is so directly the product of 
their own industry. 

We went through one of the front gates, 
walking between the church and the grave- 
yard toward the priest's dwelling in the 
rear. A flaxen-haired little maid and a 
shaggy terrier gave us a shy welcome. 
As the door was wide open and no one 
else appeared, we entered and took seats 
in the parlor, while the little maid went in 
search of " auntie," who presently came to 
give us welcome. After a little the good 
father appeared, and although he had been 
awakened from his after-dinner nap, was 
very gracious. He regretted that he could 
not throw much light upon early Acadian 
history. Although he had ministered to 
Acadian parishes for thirty years, he was 
not a Frenchman. He mentioned several 
French priests whom I would meet as I 
went on my journey. It was a little dis- 
appointment not to find an Acadian priest 
at Meteghan ; it would have been more in 
harmony with people and place, and — 
mo7^e like the poem. Still these people love 
their priest even as those at Grand Pre 
loved the good Father Felician, He 
speaks their language well, and they seem 
to know no difference. 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 



33 



Later in the day the gentle Adele took 
me to visit the oldest woman in the village, 
one Madame Thibedeau. She was a digni- 
fied and amiable old lady, very proud of 
being the great-granddaughter of an Aca- 
dian exile. Her maiden name was Dou- 
cette, — a name which figures in the annals 
of Acadie. 
Pierre Dou- |*^mi— ■ 
cette, the ex- i 
ile, had been f 




A NOVA SCOTIA COTTAGE. 



a resident of Port Royal prior to the ex- 
pulsion, and was transported by the Eng- 
lish to the vicinity of Casco Bay. With 
his companions he made his way back to 
the shores of Bale Sainte- Marie. 

The little house where madame and her 
husband live was the picture of neatness. 



34 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

The floors and stairs were painted yellow, 
as, indeed, they often are in Acadian cot- 
tages. At the windows were pretty bloom- 
ing house plants, — one a sweet-scented, 
old-fashioned " monthly rose." None of 
this family could speak English. They 
had preserved their language as well as 
their traditions. 

On Sunday morning I attended mass 
with my host and his household. In the 
church a stranger always gets his best 
impressions of a community. A good 
many women and some young girls in the 
congregation wore the couvre-chef in place 
of bonnet or hat. This is a black kerchief 
of wool or silk, worn in three-corner 
fashion and tied under the chin. The 
dress was also black. On several occa- 
sions I saw one of these black-robed 
figures in the little churchyard, kneeling 
before a grave offering prayers for the 
dead. So much that one sees in the 
Acadie of to-day suggests the poem of 
" Evangeline." 

" Without in the churchyard 
Waited the women. They stood by the graves and hung on 

the headstones 
Garlands of autumn leaves and evergreens fresh from the 

forest." 

The graveyard was a tangle of wild 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 35 

roses and other rank-growing wild things, 
running all about the simple monuments 
to those who sleep below. Perhaps these 
wild blossoms pay tribute to the dead, and 
rise like truth from the dust of those who 
did their best to love their neighbors and 
serve their God. 

The interior of Stella Maris is rather too 
bare and new to be attractive to the eye. 
The three altars are decorated in the usual 
elaborate fashion. Most fitting amid the 
display seemed the beautiful hatural plants ; 
these always speak of their Maker, and 
awaken 

" Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears." 

The priest in his fine robes was impos- 
ing, and the altar boys in their red and 
white were very devout in their many 
duties. At the close of the service the 
priest came forward and made a short 
address in French. He told his hearers 
not to^ forget that the next day would be 
the Fete of the Holy Virgin, or Assump- 
tion of the Virgin. He besought them to 
return with fervor their thanks for the 
prosperity of , the past year. This day, the 
fifteenth of August, is annually celebrated 
by the Acadians, who feel that heaven has 



36 riiROUGii evaxgeun'e's country. 

especially favored them in bringinq^ them 
back from exile and permitting them to 
grow as a people. The day itself is 
marked by religious services, and the two 
lollowing-days are given up to festivities. 
The people gather from all parts and meet 
for a general good time at the " conven- 
tion." as it is called. 

Monday morning as I walked through 
the street, enjoying the long perspective 
of pretty cottages, a young woman at a 
doorway shyly invited me to enter. I 
accepted gladly, for there is always a great 
charm about interiors. This cottagfe was 
very tasty. There were several pictures 
on the wall of the little parlor, mostly in 
the line of religious art. One was quite 
novel. It represented a group engaged 
in the marriage ceremony at the altar. 
Below were signed the names of the con- 
tracting parties and the witnesses. My 
hostess could not speak English, but we 
got on very pleasantly. She took me into 
the family room to see an oleander in 
bloom. Here was a very pretty buffet 
with glass doors, built into the wall. 
Within were arranged the glassware and 
pretty blue china. The tiny garden before 
the house held a riot of small flowers and 



BY SAINT Mary's bay. 37 

the darkest hollyhocks I ever saw, almost 
black. The French people must be very 
fond of this Passe- Rose, as they call it. 

At intervals during the day people 
wended their way to the church services. 
A good many boys and men appeared to 
have too much time on their hands, and 
loitered about the street and doorsteps. 
There was plenty of work about the houses 
and barns, for the outside of the Acadian 
home is far less tidy than the inside. It 
is evidendy the women who are thrifty 
and industrious. All the houses have 
patchwork quilts and carefully arranged 
sets of curtains. No window has less than 
two kinds. On the floors are many rugs, 
some really artistic in their construction, 
and all of them the product of skill and 
hard work. Before "one of the church 
altars is a beautiful rug in raised work, 
designed and made by the young girl 
whose gift it was. In addition to all these 
proofs of feminine industry are the sewing 
and cooking, washing and ironing, for the 
always large family. iMeteghan is a fish- 
ing community, as are most of the villages 
on Saint jMa,r>^'s Bay, so we may not expect 
to see the well-tilled farms of the rich dike 
.country where the early Acadians lived. 



38 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

If, however, the men and boys would fol- 
low the good example of their wives and 
sisters, there would be a great change for 
the better about the houses of Clare. 
Within they are orderly and attractive, but 
without they often show want of care. 

On Monday afternoon I went with Adele 
to visit the convent where she used to 
attend school. A gravelled walk led up to 
the front entrance. In the square vesti- 
bule were pretty house plants. Through 
the quiet, cool hall came, in response to 
our ring, a petite sister, whose dark eyes 
and little black glazed bonnet made her 
look very pale. She gave us a cordial 
greeting, and showed us about the con- 
vent. The pupils were all away for the 
summer vacation. Everything in the 
house was simple, almost to austereness, 
but the chapel was daintily pretty. The 
room was all in white. The tiny altar, 
draped in white, was adorned with flowers. 
At one side stood a white-draped image 
of the Virgin, at the feet the sacred fire, 
burning under a small shade of soft red 
glass. 

The next morning the fog which had 
been haunting the bay, and often en- 
veloped the whole community, had gone. 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 39 

Blue sky and bluer water made the world 
seem new again, I started early for 
Church Point, the scene of the Acadian 
gathering or "convention." The station, 
like most in this region, is several miles 
from the settlement, and is in this case 
only a rough shed. A girl, who got in at 
Meteghan, and I were the only women to 
alight. There was no public conveyance 
to be seen, but the driver of a single- 
seated wagon came forward and offered to 
convey us to the scene of festivity. Away 
we bounced over sand bars and close to 
puddles, the mud flying high, and the 
fresh breeze nearly taking our breath. As 
we approached the town our driver became 
more decorous in his management of the 
reins. Soon a peal of welcome sounded 
from the church, which now appeared to 
our left. It was a welcome to the Superior 
of the College Sainte-Anne, who was com- 
ing close behind us. We looked back and 
saw several priests in a carriage drawn by 
a fine span of horses. Our driver drew 
his horse aside to let them pass us. The 
Superior was returning from a visit to 
France, his native land, and added to the 
general happiness by his return just at 
this time. 



40 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

Church and college were decorated with 
streamers of bunting, and presented a gala 
appearance. Our driver dropped us with 
apparent relief outside the grounds where 
the festivities were going on, and pocket- 
ing his fee, left us to make our way. The 
girl was very kind, and assisted me to find 
a lady whose acquaintance I had made at 
Meteghan, and who had promised to show 
me how to enjoy the "convention." And 
well she kept her word! A direct de- 
scendant of the exiles, she recounted with 
ready fidelity such bits of their story as 
were known to her, and presented me to 
others who could add their information. 
Her great-grandmother, born at Salem, 
Massachusetts, was the child of exiles named 
Surette. Like Evangeline and Gabriel, 
these married lovers were taken to sepa- 
rate ships, but never met each other again 
on earth. The mother and her posthumous 
daughter came back in course of time to 
Acadie, but the hope of their hearts was 
not fulfilled ; the child was never to know 
her father, the wife never to hear again the 
voice of her beloved. 



"Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed ; 
Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from 
the northeast 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 4 1 

Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of 
Newfoundland. 

Friends they sought and homes; and many despairing, heart- 
broken, 

Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a 
fireside.'' 

At Church Point, on Saint Mary's Bay, 
the first church erected by the returned 
Acadian exiles is said to have stood. For 
more than thirty years after their return 
the people had neither priest nor house of 
worship. But in July, 1799, there came to 
them exactly the man who was demanded 
by the peculiar condition of Acadian af- 
fairs. In the words of his recent eulogist,^ 
the Abbe Sigogne was " an enlightened 
apostle filled with zeal ; a wise governor, 
faithful to the British government, and 
honored by its confidence ; a charitable 
shepherd devoted to his flock." 

UAbbe Jean-Mande Sigogne was born 
at Tours in 1760, and was ordained to the 
priesthood in 1785. Refusing to swear 
allegiance to the Constitution during the 
dreadful days of the French Revolution, 
he was condemned to the guillotine. On 
the day appointed for his death he made 
his escape into England. There he em- 

* R. Ph. F. Bourgeois, Professor at College Sainte-Anne. 



42 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

ployed himself in teaching French, Latin, 
and Greek. Having been persecuted him- 
self, he resolved to devote his life to those 
who had also suffered injustice, especially 
to the church, for whose sake he had 
already risked so much. Eight days after 
his arrival at Halifax, the English capital 
of Nova Scotia, he took the oath of alle- 
giance to the British Crown. He taught 
his people fidelity to the government under 
whose protection they found themselves, 
and to this union was due the great tem- 
poral success which attended the hitherto 
disheartened and misjudged Acadians. 
For forty-five years the Abbe Sigogne 
labored among the descendants of the 
exiles of 1755 and the neighboring In- 
dians. During twenty-one years he was 
the sole missionary in charge of a territory 
one hundred and thirty miles in extent. 
In the autumn of 1844, the aged priest 
was stricken with paralysis while conduct- 
ing a service at the altar. Three days 
later he died, beloved and mourned by 
those whose benefactor he had so long 
and devotedly been. 

On the 19th of May, 1892, his hon- 
ored remains were removed from the 
church where he had been interred and 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 43 

placed under a green mound in front of 
the College of Saint Anne. A white marble 
monument, with appropriate inscriptions, 
crowns the mound ; and thither will go 
many pilgrims as the years roll on. 

The College of Saint Anne has but re- 
cently been erected. It is a fine large 
edifice with modern improvements, and 
accommodates about a hundred boys. It 
was incorporated by Act of the Provincial 
Parliament in 1892, and has power to con- 
fer degrees. Saint Anne's was established 
by priests from France, fathers of the 
Congregation of Jesus and Mary. These 
fathers are known as Eudistes, from the 
founder of their order, Saint Eude. They 
are bright, cultivated men, none of them 
old in appearance. They speak their own 
language almost exclusively, and are most 
genial in their manners. 

One of them took a small party of us 
about the college. He was the most youth- 
ful of the priestly professors, a mere boy 
in appearance. A broad-shouldered fig- 
ure, a little above medium height, an olive 
skin, and gray eyes shading 'into black, a 
mouth where sweetness mingled with firm- 
ness, — these made up the exterior of such 
a son as might gladden any mother's 



44 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

heart. Truth and honesty, with a dash of 
boyish good-nature, looked out of the face 
of the young "Father" as he was called 
by courtesy, for he was not yet old enough 
to be admitted to the priesthood. And the 
black soutane was so well put on, and 
hung so proudly from the strong, young 
shoulders; the knotted black sash fell so 
boyishly at his side, and the low beaver 
hat, with its broad rim caught up against 
the crown, was so bewitching when on, and 
so deferential when doffed and carried in 
the slim, brown hand ! He spoke no Eng- 
lish, but the purest French came musically 
to our ears as he chatted of the college and 
his work. In the music-room we listened 
with dehght as he sang a French chanson. 
He is a poet, too, this youthful Eudiste, 
and composed a beautiful processional 
hymn for the Corpus Christi fete, which 
was celebrated on the i6th of June. 

The college grounds are not far from the 
shore of the bay, and a path winds down 
to the lighthouse, gleaming in the sun on 
the day that I was at Church Point. Along 
this path the procession took its way, the 
young girls of the vicinity all in white, and 
bearing flowers in their hands. At the 
end of the path, near the ruins of the first 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 45 

church, and at two intervening points, were 
erected small bowers of spruce boughs 
called " Repositories." At these the pro- 
cession halted while a priest celebrated a 
mass ; at the last one the Benediction was 
said. As my Acadian friend and I went 
on that August afternoon to visit the " Re- 
positories," the dead branches of spruce 
gave out a spicy fragrance that mingled 
with the sunlit air, like incense from an 
altar. Seen from a distance the effect of 
these arches of reddish brown spruce, 
each bearing at its summit a cross, was 
very picturesque. 

Returning from our walk, a brief visit 
was made at the convent, which is also a 
school for girls, like the one at Meteghan. 
Here a sister entertained us, assisted by 
two dear little girls, who had just come 
from Canada to attend school. They were 
the first arrivals for the new term, and 
seemed too young to be sent away from 
home care, But the sisters are sweet and 
kind, and make their young charges very 
happy. Here, again, the chapel was fitted 
up with a white altar and flowers. 

In a small house at the other side of the 
college live several sisters of the Eudiste 
Order. Four of them had recently come 



46 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

from France, and it was easy to fancy them 
as being a little homesick. They keep in 
order the linen of the college, and do other 
domestic work. The Superior conversed 
very cheerfully with my companions. She 
and a little Acadian novice were the only 
ones at home. The head-gear;, of this order 
is quite elaborate. A stiff white muslin 
band crosses the forehead and turns away 
from the cheeks with an Egyptian effect. 
The stiff bow under the chin is also white. 
Over the head from the white band on the 
forehead is gathered a black veil. From 
this effective frame the cheerful face of the 
Superior, lighted by its dark, sparkling 
eyes, looked out. The novice, a pretty 
maid, wore under the ordinary black bon- 
net a little white cap. 

The festivities in the college grounds 
went on all day, with no apparent weariness 
on the part of the participants. In the 
refectory long tables had been spread by 
the women of the parish, and loaded with 
the things that constitute a substantial cold 
dinner. Everything was in profusion, and 
every one seemed bent on eating to the full 
extent of the twenty-five cents paid for his 
dinner ticket. Meats, vegetables, and bread, 
of many varieties; pickles, cakes, of all 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 47 

sizes and hues, some with gay candies 
on top; pies, cheese, tea and coffee, — 
all disappeared only to see the empty 
dishes replenished from the unfailing- 
stores brought by the Acadian housewives. 
Square wooden chests stood behind the 
tables against the wall, ready to yield more 
good things as the demands were made. 

My kind Acadian friend made arrange- 
ments for me to remain over night at the 
house of some of her relatives. Here I 
found myself on veritable historic ground. 
The house, quite new and roomy, w^as 
erected on the site of an older one. Just 
outside the parlor windows stood those 
ruined reminders of the early French set- 
tlers, for which I had learned to scan every 
landscape, gnarled and scrubby apple-trees 
and willows. These grew, or rather sur- 
vived, upon the edge of the otherwise 
obliterated garden. A few struggling gar- 
den shrubs had outlived the desolation, 
and rose apologetically here and there 
from the rank, matted grass. The willows 
were wrecks, — with gaunt, hollow trunks, 
but with a toppling mass of foliage, fed 
apparently on rich memories of the past. 
The mistress of the modern house has a 
brood of young children, and finds no 
time to renovate old gardens. 



48 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

The first house built at Church Point by 
the returned exiles stood on these grounds 
at some little distance from the present one 
and nearer the bay. In the evening three 
of us set out to find the cellar and well 
which our host said were just discernible, 
provided we knew the exact place to look 
for them. We wandered on through the 
long, thick grass, but could not find the 
depressions for which we sought. Instead, 
we found the great ridge of pebbles thrown 
up by "the turbulent tides " of Saint Mary's 
Bay, so high that it quite cut off our view 
of the shore and the water on the other 
side. We clambered to the summit and 
beheld the bay at our feet. Across the 
water, rufiled only by the evening breeze, 
lay the long tongue of land that separates 
Saint Mary's from the Fundy Bay. This 
land is Digby Neck, — a portion of the 
main peninsula of Nova Scotia. At its 
southern extremity lies Long Island, and 
between the two is the strait retaining its 
French name. Petit Passage. Another 
island, the last barrier point between the 
bays, is separated from Long Island by 
Grand Passage. Its name is Bryer Island. 

The tide was going, and we strolled upon 
the beach. My companions pointed out 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 



49 



the spot where their exiled ancestors, re- 
turning from Massachusetts, had found a 
haven for their little vessel while they 
viewed the land. How real it all seemed 
as we stood in the evening light, under 
the same sky and o-azed upon the same 

landscape, the 
same but less 
desolate now 
than then ! To 
our right the 
starry lantern 
of the light- 
house sent 
forth its com- 




LIGHTHOUSE, SAINT MARV's BAY. 



forting beams. Across the bay were lights 
that betokened dwellers on the narrow 
strand, and at the left the hamlet of Port 
Acadie caught the glory of the sun that 
slowly sank to rest. As we turned and 
reached the top of the drift, lights were 



50 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

appearing in the windows of the col- 
lege, which was to be illuminated dur- 
ing the evening. A grand concert and 
fireworks were also on the programme. 
The Acadians were indefatigable in their 
enjoyment, but I decided to view these 
late festivities from afar. It was a beauti- 
ful August night. The western sky long 
retained the glow of twilight, paling from 
orange to amber ere it changed to dusk. 
The summer constellations sparkled on 
high. Then in puny imitation of their 
splendor shot up from the college grounds 
a cluster of Roman candles or a more 
aspiring skyrocket. It was the fiirst pyro- 
technic display that this region had ever 
beheld, and cheers of approbation re- 
sounded through the quiet night. 

The following morning our host took us 
to the real site of the first house at Church 
Point. It was not easy to find it unless 
one knew where it was, for the depressions 
are filled up nearly level with the surround- 
ing field, and only a few building stones 
mark the corners of the place where the 
old cellar used to be. " There was a forest 
all about at the time they landed," said our 
host in French. "They could easily get 
timber for their houses. And there was 



BY SAINT MARYS BAY. 53 

fish in the bay, so it was a good place 
here," he continued. "The women carried 
stones for the cellar walls in their aprons." 
The good time was to be prolonged for 
another day. As I sat upon the doorstep 
waiting for a team to take me to the 
station, I could see groups of Acadians 
proceeding along the highway that led to 
the college and picnic grounds. Gayly 
dressed girls with bright parasols went by, 
seated in slow-moving ox-carts, 

" Now from the country around, from the farms and neighbor- 
ing hamlets, 

Came in their holiday dresses the bhthe Acadian peasants. 

Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young 
folk 

Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous 
meadows, 

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the 
greensward, 

Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the high- 
way." 

Another living picture from the poem ! 

"This will be the best day of all," said 
my Acadian friend. "To-day they have 
potato soup {soupe a la palate) for sale 
on the grounds. Could you not stay and 
try some of it ? They will make a lot of 
money to-day." 

" I could s'tay forever with les Acadiens'' 
I replied ; " but I must away to other scenes 



54 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

— to the Annapolis Valley and the real 
'Land of Evangeline'; but here are the 
spirit and the raqe of that lovely Acadian 
maid. All other places will be 

' Incomplete, imperfect, unfinished,' 

for in them all 

' Dwells another race, with other customs and language.' " 

Since the day when the Acadians were 
driven from their homes, the places that 
once knew them have known them no more. 
A few years after their removal large num- 
bers of New England colonists came and 
took possession of the rich meadows that 
had been the fertile farms of the unhappy 
exiles. 



PART III. 



OLD ACADIAN HAUNTS. 

Louisburg is not forgottejt, nor Beau Sejour nor Port 
Royal." 




ON THE WAY TO ANNAPOLIS 



CHAPTER I. 



ANNAPOLIS ROYAL. 
(old port ROYAL OF THE FRENCH.) 

The journey from Church Point to An- 
napoHs is made beautiful by glimpses of 
Saint Mary's Bay and Annapolis Basin. 
Several fine bridges are crossed by the 
railway, — bridges that for height and length 
of span are thrilling enough if the passenger 
ventures to put his head outside the car 
window and look down and back. As we 



58 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

approach the junction of the AnnapoHs 
River with the basin, our longing eyes are 
rewarded by the first glimpse of x^2\ dikes. 
Although of a very unimposing type, they 
make us feel that we are now come into 
"the Acadian land" of the poem. Now 
will we 

" List to the mournful tradition," 

which ocean, forest, and " murmuring 
pines " relate to sympathizing ears. 

Annapolis Royal, as its more aristocratic 
residents still write it when they date their 
letters, has little to show of Acadian mem- 
ories outside its old French graveyard and 
its old French fort. My landlady having 
informed me that a funeral was to take 
place in the graveyard, which was directly 
across the street, I went over in due 
season. The oldest tombstones are said 
to have been of perishable material, and I 
found none with an earlier date than 1743. 
The sexton, who hovered about in nervous 
expectation of the burial train, assured me 
that there was one very much older, but he 
was not able to find it. Neither was he 
able or desirous to prevent a quartet of 
gamins, one of whom was a darky, from 
playing various pranks about the edge of 



ANNAPOLIS ROYAL. 6 1 

the newly opened grave. He invited me 
to inspect some bones that lay mouldering 
at the bottom of the grave, and turned them 
over with a stick for my better view. 

"They must have belonged to a French 
soldier," was his conclusion. " And he was 
a very big man too, for that's a long bone," 
he said, as he scratched a little earth over it. 

The grave had been opened for an 
aged lady who was descended from one of 
the old French families. Shortly after the 
procession entered the gate of the ceme- 
tery, the clergyman in his robes, preceding 
the coffin, reading the solemn words of the 
burial service.- 

The moat which surrounded the old fort 
probably enclosed also the adjoining bury- 
ing ground and may still be traced along 
one side. Near one end is a group of 
ancient willows. One late wild rose, grow- 
ing on a straggling bush on the summit of 
the uneven terrace that marks the moat, 
seemed waiting to be plucked and carried 
away, — a sweet reminder of the dreamy 
old spot. 

The fort grounds impress one by their 
extent, — some twenty-eight acres. They 
lie in the very heart of the town, and are 
a most delightful pleasure-ground. There 



62 



THROUGH EVANGEIJXES COUNTRY. 



are many picturesque points in the vicinity, 
and the views of water and hills to be had 
from the ramparts are well worth seeing. 
The mind travels involuntarily to the early 
settlers, and wonders how the remon looked 
to them as they came upon it before the 
foot of any white man had touched its 
green shores, — beautiful but yet a wilder- 




FRAGMENT OF OLD FRENCH FORT AT ANNAPOLIS. 

ness. Over the grassy outlines of moat 
and rampart cattle now browse content- 
edly. 

All that remains of French masonry 
is the crumbling sally-port and the small 
but solid powder magazine. The interior 
of this little structure is damp and dimly 
lighted. Its walls are built of blocks of 



ANNAPOLIS ROYAL. 65 

limestone, known as Caen stone, brought 
long" ago from France. Dampness and 
ao^e have worn the stone so soft that one 
may easily mark it with one's finger nail 
and in some places it may be scraped off 
like salt. The stone was originally of a 
creamy white, but has taken on tints of 
green and brown, so that, as one enters, 
the effect is most pleasing. No effort has 
been made by government to keep these 
historical relics in a state of preservation. 
The matter has been agitated, but should 
have been thoroughly attended to long 
since. The quaint, long building with 
broad chimneys, now occupied by tenants 
of the poorer class, was the British bar- 
racks. The old French barracks became 
unsafe and were taken down some years 
ago. 

The general air of Annapolis at the 
present day is English ; very little except 
the natural scenery reminds us of the Aca- 
dians. Relics have been dug up and cer- 
tain rare, archaeologically inclined residents 
are familiar with the old haunts of the 
French people, who really gave its historic 
and poetic- charm to their serious, little 
British town. 




APPLE BLOSSOMS, ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 



CHAPTER II. 



IN THE ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 



Some twelve miles up the valley from 
Annapolis I found a delightful abiding- 
place from which to study the scenic 
handling of the poem. Here at a farm- 
house on the side of the South Mountain 
I tarried, under the spell of the landscape. 
For over a fortnight, during which I walked 
and drove with great frequency, I revelled 
in the beauties of the Annapolis Valley. 



IN THE ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 67 

The valley is wide enough to give the 
right stretch of foreground as one looks 
across the river from either mountain-side. 
The mountains are covered with verdure, 
and are fascinating in sunlight and in fog. 
Indeed, the fog effects upon the North 
Mountain are enchanting. Often and 
often I stood in the doorway of the old 
house, and looked with rapture where — 



" Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty 
Atlantic 
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station 
descended." 



Driven in from the Bay of Fundy, the 
great wall of mist shuts out for a time 
the entire upper outline of the mountain. 
Then by some mysterious process it is 
caught up like great rolls of wool and lies 
along the summit, never coming down 
into the valley. One may look at intervals 
for hours, and always find some change 
has taken place. And then as sunset time 
approaches, the last thin trails disappear, 
and the glory of purple and gold touches 
the hilltop into clear outline, growing 
darker as the sky grows brighter. 

The river, too, is subject to changes 
that make it interesting to the visitor. Af- 



68 THROUGH EVAXCiELIXE's COUNTRY. 

fected by the Fundy tides, it rises higher 
than an ordinary river, and is consequently 
very curious to see at low tide. Then the 
narrow, shallow waterway lies at the bot- 
tom of a shelving trough of shimmering 
red-brown mud, rising many times the 
water's width above it. All along the 
river banks stretch the dikes that protect 
the marshes from the rushing tides, which 
would carry away their richness. One may 
see, too, some of those curious construc- 
tions used for flooding the marshes when 
necessary. These are still called by their 
Acadian name, — aboteaux. They were 
made by binding together stout spruce 
trees, and served as a kind of sluiceway. 

" At stated seasons the flood gates 
Opened and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the 
meadows." 

The first French settlers of the valley 
came from a part of France where the sea 
was kept out by artificial dikes, and were, 
therefore, able to manage the condition of 
things which they found in the New World. 
After the expulsion, the dikes and other 
improvements of the Acadlans fell into 
decay, and when the English and New 
England settlers came to take possession 



IN THE ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 69 

it was necessary to build new dikes and 
to repair the old ones. For these pur- 
poses they were obliged to employ some 
of the Acadians still to be found in the 
country, as they understood the work so 
thoroughly. The old French dikes still in 
existence are pointed out to the visitor 
who desires to see "everything that be- 
longed to the French." 

The cellars of French houses, which 
some of the older people remember to 
have seen quite clearly defined, have now 
become obliterated, and one may only be 
shown the field where they used to be. 
One of the ancient wells I saw, and learned 
that it had been cleared out a few years 
before, when the original stone wall was 
found in good condition nearly up to the 
top. This was repaired, and the old spring 
again fills the well with good water, which 
is used by several families in the vicinity. 
It was a pretty bit of picturesqueness, just 
on the slope of a slight rise of ground. 
The grasses and vines looked over its 
edge at their own reflection in the water, 
and above all a half-dead apple-tree sug- 
gested Acadian days. ' 

" Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its 
moss-grown 
Bucket, fastened with iron." 



70 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

At vsome distance back on the farm 
where I was staying there was a cave, in 
which many years ago had been found 
articles that had belonged to some of the 
fugitive Acadians, who sought safety in 
flight. Such relics were not unfrequently 
met with. 

" Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, 
Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of the morrow." 

In one of my evening drives, — for the 
mystery and beauty of the valley are 
enhanced by the night, — I saw the 
living duplicate of this picture from the 
poem. 

" Late with the rising moon, returned the wains from the 
marshes, 
Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor." 

And again, when the moon was late, we 
saw the lights moving about on the 
marshes, and heard the farmers as they 
shouted to their oxen, and the creaking of 
the wagons as they took up their slow 
journey to the waiting barns. 
Once, when the 

"Twilight descending 
Brought back the evenmg star to the sky," 

I walked alone to Bloody Creek, crossed 
the crazy bridge, and followed the uphill 



IN THE ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 



71 



road that seemed to run away to the red- 
gold sky. At my left an orchard, fringing 
the sloping hill, made a picture, the dark 
trunks and heavy tops of the trees out- 
lined on the sky. To the right lay stretches 
of fertile meadow, through which the creek 
winds its way to join the river. Beyond 




APPLE ORCHARD, ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 



rose North Mountain, growing massive in 
the waning light. But few houses were in 
view, and I met few people on my way. 
As the glow of the sunset faded, I turned 
and came down again toward the creek, 
where the shadows had already gathered. 
It was eerie enough, but I stood for a 
while on the bridge listening to the ripple 



72 THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

of the water. Away up the South Moun- 
tain, whither I had been in the afternoon, 
I could hear the softened rush of the falls. 
Close by one end of the bridge stood 
the aged wreck of an apple-tree, said to 
mark the spot where those who fell in the 
long-ago fight were buried. In 171 1, a 
battle took place on the banks of the creek. 
So many fell that the waters ran red with 
blood, and its name has ever since been 
a reminder of the scene of carnage. The 
English at that time held the fort at An- 
napolis, and were met here by the French 
and their Indian allies. 

One more evening reminiscence of the 
Annapolis Valley and I have done. The 
willows are said to have at least sprung 
from those planted by the French, and, 
believing this, every single tree or clump 
of trees gives untold satisfaction to one 
who has learned to love the least trace ot 
the romantic first settlers. And when one 
sees, here and there, the weird Lombardy 
poplars that are so frequently met with in 
journeying through the — 

" Sunny land of France," 

then is there no doubt in one's mind that 
here in truth was the abode of the " simple 



IN THE ANNAPOLIS VALLEY. 75 

Acadian farmers" who "dwelt together in 
love." So in the gloaming of a rainy day, 
with the fog striving to make way for the 
stars, we set out to visit a row of willows 
that were considered reliably "Acadian." 
Their great trunks had been pollarded, and 
during long subsequent years had borne a 
thicket of wood and foliage. They were 
satisfactory relics, and the homeward walk 
was a series of visions of beauty. We 
walked upon the railway, and from its 
elevation could overlook the winding river 
and the dike lands, with their harmonious 
tints of green. The fog was thick toward 
the east or up the river. The wind tore 
it loose from the ever-present wall of the 
North Mountain, and strove to drive it to 
the bay. Here and there the light broke 
through it and illumined the landscape. 
Then in a brief moment the rift was closed 
and the light shut off. The water was 
placid, and mirrored each object near the 
bank, most conspicuously the beautiful 
trees, — the dark green spruces and silver 
masses of willows, the stately elms and 
grotesque apple-trees. 

Aground_ in the shallow river lay a 
schooner, her sails all down, the bare spars 
looming in the fantastic light. So might 



76 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

have looked one of those prison transports 
that lay in wait for the sorrowing exiles 

of 1755- 




'aground in the shallow river lav a schooner. 



PART IV. 

THE POET'S ACADIA. 

(^Scejie of the poem of " Evangeline.'") 

' Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian 
farmers ? 

]Vaste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever 
departed ! 

Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of 
Grand Pre P 




ORCHARD IN BLOOM. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE CORNWALLIS VALLEY. 



The scenes depicted by Longfellow are 
located near the Cornwallis Valley, some 
seventy miles from Annapolis, and at the 
other end of that stretch of land which 
extends from Annapolis Basin on the 
west to the Basin of Minas on the east. 
The work of evicting the Acadian popula- 
tion was conducted simultaneously in four 
different places by four different military 
commanders acting under the governor's 
orders. Lieutenant-Colonel John Winslow 
of Massachusetts had charge of the work at 
Grand Pre and vicinity. His management 



8o THROUGH Evangeline's country. 



was more successful than that of his col- 
leagues. Although he resorted to strategy 
and did his cruel task so skilfully, history 
credits him with having said of the 

wretched vic- 
tims of his skill, 
" It hurts me 
to hear their 
weeping and 
wailing." Let 
us hope it ^2^;^/ 
him enough to 
cause due re- 
pentance for 
his readiness 
to obey the 
cruel orders of 
his superiors. 

The whole 
C o r nw allis 
Valley is noted 
for its beauty 
and its agricul- 
tural wealth. 
It is often 
called the "Garden of Nova Scotia," and 
with the Annapolis Valley forms one of 
the greatest fruit-growing regions in the 
world. It was the French who first in- 



■ 


ft 


1 






1 








1 


■^HHHU ,*^ ^liC?3K 


P$!R 


^^^S'-' 


1 









APPLE PICKING. 



THE CORNWALLIS VALLEY. 61 

troduced apple culture into the Annapo- 
lis Valley about the year 1633. The shel- 
ter of the two mountain ranges, the oft- 
quoted North and South Mountain, makes 
both valleys particularly favorable for 
the spreading orchards that so astonish a 
stranger. In the time of apple blossoms, 
the beauty of the scene can hardly be 




imagined. And when the ripening fruit 
glows in the sun of late summer and 
early autumn, then is it a rich delight to 
breathe 



" The odorous air of the orchard. 



Scattered along the railway that passes 
throtigh the Cornwallis Valley are many 



82 THROUGH EVANGELINE's COUNTRY. 

pretty towns. Foremost of all, to the 
eager pilgrim who seeks Acadian shrines, 
is Grand Pre. If, however, one wishes to 
take the many delightful outings that may 
be enjoyed in the vicinity, it is better to 
locate where one may be sure of a com- 
fortable hotel and the privileges of a livery 
stable, and also see as much as possible of 
the life of the people. For all these pur- 
poses I found the charming little town of 
Kentville most admirable. 

Kentville has about it a very English 
flavor that makes it seem quite foreign. 
Here are settled a considerable number of 
retired British officers, and the tone of its 
society is decidedly aristocratic. The prin- 
cipal streets are lively all day and until 
late at night. On the first morning of my 
sojourn, I found that something unusual 
was going forward, and as I walked about 
saw here and there a soldier. Coming in 
sight of the parade, there was quite a 
gathering of citizens, driving-parties and 
pedestrians, all watching with interest the 
movements of the young dragoons, who 
were mounting and falling into place with 
an air of great importance. They were 
going into camp at the Nova Scotian 
"Aldershot," some miles distant, and made 



THE CORNWALLIS VALLEY. 85 

a pleasing feature in a stranger's view of 
the place. 

One of the pleasant trips that may be 
taken from Kentville is that over the 
Cornwallis Valley Railway to Kingsport. 
Kingsport is at the terminus of this short 
line, — only fifteen miles in length, — and 
is on the very edge of the Basin of Minas. 
Every native will say, "Oh, don't go to 
Kingsport ; get off at Canning and see 
the 'Look Off.' That's a view worth 
having; it's a panorama of the whole 
country for miles around." But pano- 
ramas, however attractive to the general 
sight-seer, have little to offer in the way of 
sentiment; and the hours that were spent 
on the shore at Kingsport were fraught 
with quiet delight. 

It was a clear September morning, and 
as I walked from the toylike car of the 
narrow-gauge road toward the maritime 
settlement of Kingsport, — 

" Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas." 

The sunlight danced upon the blue waves, 
and overhead the blue sky was sprinkled 
with fleecy clouds. The long pier, with 
its squat little lighthouse, the low-lying 



86 THROUGH EVANGEIJNE's COUNTRY. 

green meadows, with their haystacks partly 
swamped by the high tide, indicated the 
proximity of the Fundy Bay. No dikes 
were in sight, the village being given over 
to commercial interests rather than to 
farming. A vessel lay on the stocks, and 




"a vessel L\V on the ST 



the sound of hammers could be heard. 
The wide entrance to a smithy faced the 
upper end of the pier, and showed the 
glowing fire and the figures hovering 
about it. I half expected to see some 
modern Gabriel and his little mate look- 



THE CORNWALLIS VALLEY. 8/ 

ing into the fascinating place as in the 
poem: — 

"When the hymn was sung and the daily lessons completed, 
Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith. 
There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold 

him 
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything, 
Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the 

cart-wheel 
Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders." 

All along the nearer shore ran the high 
bluff of red clay so characteristic of the 
region. The white sails of a passing 
schooner making her outward way to the 
mouth of the basin caught the morning 
breeze as she sped onward like a thing of 
life. From the beach I picked some bits 
of rock, such as are found at Blomidon, — 
a grayish volcanic mass, with clusters of 
tiny crystals scattered through. The crys- 
tals are colored to a dull pink by the iron 
that tinges everything about the shore. 
Near the pier grew a stunted bush of 
willow and a coarse seashore variety of 
goldenrod. 

As I walked along the freight railway 
that runs from the end of the pier to the 
station wher£ I was to take the train for 
Kentville, I saw the full extent of the 
village, — its homes, its churches, and its 



88 



THROUGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY 



Stores. A few willows and one gaunt 
Lombardy caught my eye. Perchance 
here too had been the homes of — 

" Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the wood- 
lands, 
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of 
heaven." 




CUTTING THROUGH AN ORCHARD. 



CHAPTER II. 

GRAND pre! 



" In the Acadian land on the shores of the Basin of Minas, 
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand Pre 
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the 

eastward, 
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without 

number." 



From Kentville one may take the trip 
to Grand Pre by rail, or, which is more 




THE GASPEREAU VALLEY. 



delightful, drive through the lovely Gas- 
pereau Valley. A pause should be made 



90 THKC^UGH EVANGELINE S COUNTRY. 

as one reaches the top of the hill at one 
side of the valley. He will behold a 
pleasing picture. The scenery is not 
grand in any of this region, but has a 
quiet beauty, and enough variety to be 
most attractive to the eye. Through the 
valley flows the little Gaspereau River, at 
whose mouth lay the English ships, whose 
appearance there brought so much anxiety 
to Basil, the blacksmith of Grand Pre : — 

" Four days now are passed since the English ships at their 
anchors 

Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon pointed 
against us. 

What their design may be is unknown; but all are com- 
manded 

On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's 
mandate 

Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas ! in the mean 
time 

Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people." 

As we entered the village of Grand Pre 
we drove up before the house of a man 
who, my driver said, would show us some 
relics that had been dug up in the neigh- 
borhood. This he did, but with the man- 
ner of one who wondered why anybody 
should desire to see such things. The 
relics are undoubtedly reliable. They all 
show the effects of lying long hidden in 
the damp earth. Their present owner 



GRAND PRE. 



93 



makes quizzical remarks as he carelessly 
hands them to his visitor. The long, 
rusty key, he says, was the key of the 
chapel where the French people were shut 
up by the soldiers. It may have been so. 
A great cow-bell, worn into holes by the 
moisture of the earth, belonged, so says 




OLD BLACKSMITH FORGE, 



GRAND PRE. 



this exhibitor of Acadian relics, to Evan- 
geline's heifer. With this statement he 
gives a sly wink to my driver, and seems 
to be highly pleased with his own ingenu- 
ity. But what matters a little scoffing on 
the part of those who have no sympathy 
with the traditions of Grand Pre ? Has 
not the poet given us this picture, and 



94 THROUGH EVANCELINES COUNTRY. 

does it not rise before us as we take the 
clumsy bell into our hands ? 

" Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, 
Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from 

her collar, 
Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection." 

And then, tempted by our evident credu- 
lity, the showman points to a blacksmith's 
shop a few yards away, and declares with 
mischief in his eyes that it is Basil's. 

As we drove on over the long, white 
road leading to the railway, and the sup- 
posed site of the Acadian village of Grand 
Pre, there was a fine view of the Basin of 
Minas and the dikes. 

" And away to the northward Blomidon rose." 

Cape Blomidon is the great headland 
that forms the terminus of the North 
Mountain range. It is a grand feature in 
the scenery, jutting out boldly into the 
basin. Geologically, it is of great interest. 
Almost every visitor who is persevering 
brings away pretty mineral specimens. 
The bulk of the bluff is red sandstone. 
Agates, chalcedony, amethysts, and vari- 
ously tinted quartz crystals are found. 
Indian legends made Blomidon the resi- 
dence of the great deity Glooscap. Here 



GRAND PRE. 97 

he held his court and kept the wild ani- 
mals under control. At the coming of 
the white man, he left the region in a 
great rage, having first performed various 
miraculous deeds. He it was who scat- 
tered the gems about Blomidon. Some 



"away to the northward blomidon rose. 

day, so the legends tell, he will come 
again to the scene of his former power. 

Willows and Lombardy poplars abound 
at Grand Pre. We passed one fine old 
mansion that might well have been the 
home of — 

" Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand Pre "; 

for it seemed to answer the description : — 



98 THROUGH Evangeline's country. 

" Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer 
SiViod on the side of a hill commanding the sea; 

and a footpath 
Led through an orchard wiile, and disappeared in the 
meadow." 

Not far from the station is the clump 
of willows believed to mark the site of the 
church where the unsuspecting men and 
boys of the village were decoyed on that 
sad September day of 1755. It is very 
easy to conjure up a picture of the tragic 
scene. 

" With a summons sonorous 
Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum 

beat. 
Thronged erelong was the church with men. 

Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly 

among them 
Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor 
Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and case- 
ment, — 
Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal 
Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the 
soldiers." 

Close by the church was the priest's 
house, now marked by the ancient well, 
which has been restored and is protected 
by a white railing. The destruction of 
Grand Pre was so thoroughly accom- 
plished that it has always been difficult to 
locate the places of interest. The Con- 
necticut colonists, who came to live here 



GRAND PRE. 



99 



about five years after the expulsion, found 
some farming implements and the bones 
of many cattle that had perished by hun- 
ger and exposure. A few families were 




OLD ACADIAN GRAVEYARD, GASPEREAU. 

found, living like savages in the woods, 
where they had fled to avoid the soldiers. 
From time to time relics have continued 
to be discovered, — tools, fragments of 
farm utensils, and sometimes coins. My 
landlord at Kentville showed me a bright 



loo TiiKOUGii evanc;elines country. 

yellow louis d'or with the date 1704. It 
bears the clear stamp of the French king's 
profile and the lilies of France. This 
coin was discovered in a ploughed field, 
trodden out by the foot of an ox. What 
a story it might tell ! 

Peace now reigns where once the cruel- 
ties of war spread ruin and despair. For 
the parted lovers, and for all those who 
were torn from their homes in those long- 
gone days, all is ended, — 

"The hope, and the fear, and the sorrow " ; 

but for those of us — 

" Who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is 
patient," 

this fair corner of earth will always be — 
The Land of Evangeline. 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 396 781 



